


Suspended

by CammienRay



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:48:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CammienRay/pseuds/CammienRay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A jet scene, but in 7 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspended

She had a headphone splitter. And an extra pair of earbuds. But there was something about sharing the pair, the thin white covered wire dangling down between them (it’s a *metaphor* see, for being *connected* or something).

The first time Felicity flew with Oliver when he wasn’t actually the one piloting the plane, she had intended to make him watch any number of the better films from the 5 years he was AWOL but a dispute on the definition of “dicing” vs. “chopping” had led to them marathoning the greater portion of a season of _Masterchef_. Since then, mildly crappy reality competitions had kindof been their thing on flights.

They burned through a decent chunk of culinary shows during those months where they were flying to and from Russia when they were opening the first international branch of QC. Let’s be very clear though: that didn’t mean either one of them was at all good at cooking. Felicity’s idea of meal prep was putting apple slices and almond butter and Cheetos on a plate, and Oliver had a tendency to view heating instructions as optional.

For a good while they were into _Face Off_ , which led to a much-needed discussion on what exactly a mask needed to cover to actually serve its purpose, and this did result in a very temporary revamping of the Arrow’s mask. Sadly, while the new design was a masterpiece of disguise, the polyfoam didn’t stand up to what superheroes consider normal wear and tear...

While _American Ninja Warrior_ seemed an *obvious* choice for them, it paled in comparison to their interest in _The Amazing Race_. And there were others - a brief fascination with _Wipeout_ (in which Felicity calculated the exact trajectory, angle, and speed needed to get past the red ball challenge) and a brief attempt to get into _Junkyard Wars_ , and one and only one season of _The Voice_ (their fav didn’t win and they never went back). Basically everything other than dating and modeling reality shows, but that’s probably for the best.

And now here they were, watching _Love It or List It_ , on a flight from Tokyo to Starling and they were going home. Well, to an apartment, but an apartment was home for them now. The Queen mansion burned down (long story), and Felicity’s old place had been blown up and flooded (two separate instances, one was a big bad, one was a plumbing malfunction) and Oliver’s propensity for sleeping on the floor of their various lairs over the years had faded out as well over a decade of joint overuse began to catch up with him.

It was a nice apartment. It had an open floor plan which worked out well with 6-year-old TJ’s habit of running in circles around the house reciting the periodic table of the elements (clearly they passed on some of their... better traits to their son). There was a guest room which was frequently inhabited these days by Felicity’s cousin who they were definitely sure was teaching TJ illegal hacking tricks (but who were they to say no to free babysitting and anyway “Aunt Skye” was the only one who could get him to *not* use the furniture for target practice). There was a fine tuned security system and a well-worn dining table and a bunch of pictures on the wall in the hallway (Christmas cards from the Diggles, derpy selfies of Thea that she put up herself, family photos from Quentin and Donna’s wedding, a whole series of snapshots of Oliver teaching TJ to ride a bike). It was definitely home now, with that balance of permanence and impermanence that suited them.

The overly animated real estate agents gestured wildly on their screen as they described the kitchen remodel they were proposing, and Felicity slid down in her window seat, crossed her legs and lightly nudged Oliver’s arm. With the relaxed instinctiveness that comes with years of being by her side, he shifted his arm up and around her, pulling her against him.

And maybe on their next flight they’d be fighting off some absurdly named villain, and maybe next week their apartment would be invaded by an army of katana-wielding agents, and a virus might be let loose on their city tomorrow and a double-agent may leak their current lair location to an unfriendly government agency and one of them might be kidnapped and held hostage by any number of the big scary bad guys they’ve pissed off over the years but now, right now they were just two people on a plane watching a crappy tv show, and right now, that’s enough.


End file.
